Kintsugi
by masollan
Summary: Yamato travels back to the days when Mimi was still alive. [AU - time-travel]
1. Chapter 1

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Kintsugi  
(金継ぎ)

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(n.) lit. "to repair with gold"; the art of fixing broken pottery with gold or silver lacquer

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It's three in the afternoon at the crematorium, 22nd of March, partly sunny, partly cloudy. The stark pink of the sakura is blindingly distracting as Tachikawa Mimi turns to ashes, the flames inside the machine engulfing the casket. Everyone has their handkerchiefs over their mouths and noses, perhaps due to the hint of burnt pine or to silence their sobbing. Except Satoe.

The priest continues to recite the sutra despite Satoe's loud muffles, Keisuke holds her tightly by the shoulders, but the comfort was obviously not enough.

Mimi is gone, and I should not be here.

My extent of familiarity with the girl reaches down to that one summer camp in elementary school. For the eleven-year-old me, it was just one of those plans that I get to spend with my estranged brother. The twenty-six-year-old me today sees it as a turning point. That camp was where I met everyone - a former childhood rival turned friend, the first love, and a couple of best friends.. _Everyone except.._

"Aniki," Takeru stiffly hands over his own handkerchief to me. I reach over it and pat the dampened gingham lightly on to my eyes, the sting somehow never leaving. I don't usually cry in public, but for the past fifteen years that I've denied this, today, I have finally come to accept that Mimi and I were never friends.

Satoe stops crying as the priest then collects her remains in dust, puts it in a black urn, a red string tied to it. Mimi always looked good in red.. she made pink look beau - l mean - less unsightly. I never grew to like the lighter side of things, let alone in gradients.

I look back at the sakura tree framing the shrine, the shade reminding me of her with cotton candy and her hair. Mimi and I were not friends, I tell myself. But I know I cared for her, I also tell myself, for I know I could have saved her that day. I could have been there.

A sound comes from the direction of the tree, and right then and there I could see her in her pink dress and white scarf, rose-golden hair and all, leaning against the bark of the tree. She smiles at me and I look around. No one notices.

I look back at the tree, and she is gone.

No, she's not "gone", she wasn't really there in the first place, Yamato. I must be seeing things. Mimi is dead. Died young, beautiful.. violated.

The _kotsuage_ begins, Satoe and Keisuke call us out and hand over pairs of chopsticks. Satoe gently smiles at me, and I am terrified.

My fingers tremble at the hold, everyone gathering at the center to pick up her bones, pass it around.

I don't deserve this. I should not be here.

"Yamato," Jyou calls me over, prompting me to join them. Sora looks over and sternly gazes at me, albeit wordless, her instruction the same with her new lover. In small, slow steps, I entered the circle. Keisuke begins with the bones of the feet, passing it to Satoe in clockwise, with me being the last.

The silence of this ritual is unsettling, the crumb-sized bones now at Taichi's.

I should not be here, I tell myself again. This ritual is meant for family and friends. I'm neither.

"Koushiro," Jyou calls him out of the redhead's daze, now accepting the bones once he got into his senses. The dread amplifies. Takeru has the bones now.

I should not be here.

"It's your turn, aniki,"

I shouldn't..

"Ishida-san,"

I just can't.

"Yamato-kun?"

I.. I can't _breathe -_

 _"I'm sorry."_

Hurrying feet took me elsewhere, anywhere but there. I was never a friend of Mimi's. I shouldn't be here in the first place. I never did anything for her.

I was walking fast, trying to get out of this maze-like shrine the Tachikawas rented, knowing fully well what the others were thinking of me now, and knowing fully well I disappointed everyone in there today - even Mimi.

And then, with blurred sight and hazy mind, the last thing I saw was the stone guardian of the shrine, a cold stare.

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My head feels so sore. My back aches like hell. Thank God the afternoon light has died down. I never thought funerals would be this stressf -

 _What the hell?!_

I glanced at my watch. It's 15th of March, cloudy, at the exact spot I had my last conversation with Mimi. Tonight was the night she died.

 _The Ides._

On my right there she leans across the railing, alive and well. I stand petrified, for certain, I and everyone else were just about to pass her bones around moments ago.

"Yamato-san," she leans forward, and I catch myself staring at her in utter disbelief. " you look like you've seen a ghost!"

This must be my dream.

-#-

This AU/time-travel idea has been in my mind for days now, and I thought it would make a nice ficlet (probably 5 chapters or 10 _really short_ chapters). **_Kotsuage_** is a ritual that takes place after the cremation, where family members and closed ones pass around the bones of the deceased. The feet goes first, the head last.


	2. Chapter 2

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Kintsugi

(金継ぎ)

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(n.) lit. "to repair with gold"; the art of fixing broken pottery with gold or silver lacquer

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I learned of Tachikawa Mimi's murder from SNS. The article reported a body of a 25-year-old fashion model bound to an electric post in Shinjuku - face and limbs taped around, dress stained and torn. Multiple bruises and a scar with the name of a death god written were found; a deep puncture through the abdomen decided her fate. Devil's hour.

When I heard this news I remember myself doubting the veracity of the article - it came from _Tokyo Reporter_ , for kami's sake.

 _Ugh._

My father, who worked most of his prime in the news station, had imbued the habit of picking and trusting sources in me. Certainly not going to rely on yellow journalism, especially when it came to someone as popular as Mimi. The rumor mill on her (regardless how exaggerated, sensationalized, libelous and borderline insane and delusional they turn to be) often meant a huge payday for the press, truth and objectivity be damned. _Heh_ , I would know. I did say my father's from the media. I have my own concerns about publicity, too.

But moreover, _Tokyo Reporter_ got it right this time, what with hounding actresses and famous women all the time with their paparazzi stalkers. Having the initial scoop must have had their bank accounts rolling. Instant loot. It's disgusting to imagine.

The _Keishicho_ later discovered that the murderers were young, elite patrons of the club. It was the same club - the same men behind the start-up record label that my band recently formed a contract with. It's funny when one thinks about it. You'd think the rape and murder of a media darling would bring out a mystery thriller case like in film noir or crime fiction. Not even hardboiled. No, there's nothing romantic about it, as one would die in a lover's arms, or as gritty and honorable as a soldier taking a bullet for his comrade, or as beautiful as one passing away by sleep. Neither in Mimi's death.

There's only tragedy.

Maybe I didn't believe it at first because I was already in denial. What happened was fucking crucifixion. How can one hurt Mimi when everybody loves her, right?

"Yamato-san.. you look like you've seen a ghost!"

"..huh?" I managed to sound.

She bobs her head to the side. "Ehh.. you're the one who called up on me, remember?"

I called.. _you?_ But that's not the important thing here right now, Yamato.. Mimi is..

From when I am now is several hours before the news of her murder hit the SNS. Mimi stares at me with wordless inquiry. Behind her, the sky is pink and orange, the production team several feet away from us were packing up and calling it a day.

"It's rude to stare," she snaps at me impatiently, hands on her waist as her cheeks grew pinker. The twilight emphasized the shade.

Mimi is alive. I say it over and over until it sinks in. It doesn't.

I took a few steps forward, hands moving upwards to cup her face. Her blush deepens, honey eyes and mouth in circles with paralyzed surprise. I've never looked at her longer than this, but I can't help but feel like I've been needing this for a long, long time.

 _Mimi is alive._

My eyes are stinging again.

Maybe I really am dreaming. I'm almost convinced that I am. I could tell she is embarrassed by what I'm doing, but as the warmth of her cheeks, the realness of her skin registers to my palms, for the first time I feel like thanking the gods that she is alive.

"H-hey!" she stutters, reaches to both of my hands and rids herself out of my hold. Her brows scrunch between, glares at me for trespassing her personal space. "Boundaries, Ishida!"

I would have probably reacted the same, catch myself off guard and be embarrassed as hell with what I did, mutter my apology, then walk away, leave her be.. and she will run to me. That's what happened on this day, a week ago.

 _But.._

Mimi is alive. She's moving. Smiling. Talking. Breathing.

"Sorry," I breathed, eyes not leaving hers, hoping this wasn't just an illusion of mine. If only everyone else could see her here now. "Mimi, you d -"

I purse my lips, now only dawning on me that this is happening in the past, or in a dream. _Stop it, Yamato,_ I scold myself _._ She doesn't know she's going to die tonight. Moreover, my consciousness is in the past. That's some reality I haven't grasped yet. How am I here? Why am I here? Am I dreaming? I have to be dreaming, right? None of this is real, and yet I feel my back ache from the weight of the guitar on me. Right..

This is happening in the past.. _Right?_

Mimi's frown eases into a courteous smile, obviously making extra effort to form a camaraderie with me, regardless how shallow it would be. "Well, I heard you'll play tonight," she says.

From my original memory of this day, I stumbled upon Tachikawa Mimi during a commercial shoot. I was on my way for band practice, and true to my nature I did my best to avoid her, not wanting to bother her with my acquaintanceship. _It wouldn't matter,_ I remember telling myself, _we're not that close._ But amidst the crew surrounding her, she managed to spot me from the crowd, run towards me, and tells me the exact same thing - _"I heard you'll play tonight"._

But this is a dream. I'm in a dream, one in which I did not avoid her acquaintance. Quite contrary to what happened really, since she said I'm the one who called on her. .

 _Now, why would I do that?_

What happens next is closer to the what happened before. I wait for her to finish up and bid her byes with the crew, the lot of them look at me with careful familiarity.

 _"Isn't he from that band?"_

 _"The frontman from Knife of Day.."_

 _"Small world that he and Tachikawa-san know each other, huh?"_

 _"Think they're dating?"_

 _"Just a hook-up, most likely."_

I shit you not. If only they know how estranged I am with this girl. Mimi joins me, and we walk, and then comes the small talk. What happens is Mimi ends up accompanying me to band practice. She will end up watching me alone. I shouldn't have left her on her own.

I might as well go along with this 'til I actually wake up. _It's just a dream, Yamato._

"I wonder if the others will watch too," she says out loud, her fingers go through the strands of her hair shyly. I try not to catch her sight, but she directs her head to me and grins.

"This is my first time to watch you perform," and then I remember that she talks a lot, and I have very little to say to her as she expects me to reply. No words came out of me, so Mimi presses the conversation again. "I kind of feel bad about it.. I always wanted to watch one of your performances even back then."

 _De ja vu._ She said the exact same thing before. I look at her again, wondering if I really am dreaming, or if I'm repeating history. The latter is still so far-fetched but I can't help but think I'm actually reliving this day.

 _"This is weird.."_ Crap! Did I just say that out loud?! I turn to look at her and she looks away, obviously as unsettled as I am with the admission. I always wondered why she wanted to come along with me today, to see me practice and listen to my music, alone. No Koushiro, or Taichi, or Sora. Just her.

 _Maybe she really is making an effort for me.._

 _Huh._. it never came across like that for me before.. Maybe I should try, too. Maybe I could be warmer, friendlier, perhaps put the ice in my eyes away for a while.. At least in this dream of mine, Mimi is alive. That's all that seems to matter.

"You're a hard worker, Tachikawa," I never gave her a compliment before.

Mimi giggles at the suddenness, and she looks at me with a weird expression. We're obviously not used to this.

"Speak for yourself, Yamato-san," she replies, clasps her hands at her back. She hums. "you'd think by this age we would have grown out of childhood dreams."

And then I laugh.

The night goes exactly how it did back then. Light conversations, polite gestures, the occasional exchange of burns as she tries to make unwanted criticism of my music. On the event itself, Mimi stays behind the crowd as the band and I settle on stage and perform, but this time, I made sure she sits just in front of the stage, in front of me. In this dream, I assure myself that Mimi won't die tonight.

Playing the songs were extra difficult, knowing a murder and rape would take place. Mistakes mattered very little to me, despite my bandmates signaling me I've gone off key for several times already. But it doesn't matter., I was getting anxious. If this was just a dream, then maybe my consciousness will save Mimi. She will live.. at least in my head.

We leave the area as soon as our performance was over - one in the morning - exactly like in my original memory. That fact unsettles me.

"It's a shame.. I wanted to stay for a while," she laments against the spring air. I look away, avoiding to spill. If only she knows what would have happened tonight.

On our way Mimi points out to me that she notices the mistakes I've made during the gig, I tell her to shut up and keep walking (and she does, although she has gone cross with me now). We'll settle it later, this part of Shinjuku has always been dodgy. The streets were empty and dead quiet, as if set-up. I was a few steps behind her, looking for signs, hints of a possible ambush. Little by little I'm coming to realize perhaps I shouldn't have brought her here with me in the first place.

You really shouldn't have, Yamato.

 _\- THUD -_

 _"Yamato-san?!"_

I've spoken sooner. The next thing i knew was I was lying on the ground, conscious. My neck fucking hurts that I held my head only to glance at the smear of blood as I look at my hands. I look back at it, trying to better my vision. Blood. It dawned on me.

 _\- I AM NOT DREAMING -_

"What a lovely onee-san we will have tonight!"

" _Oyabun_ always had his eyes on you, Mimi-chan,."

"Kekeke! Let's get started, boys."

 _"YAMATO-SAN!"_

"MIMI?!" My panic soars as I try to look up to where the voices could be heard in the darkness. Three figures in suits, Mimi in the middle, she continues to cry out my name as they held her up against an electric post, one of them sealing her mouth, one with a _tanto_ blade piercing across her chest, white dress stained with blood.

Vultures on the prey. I could hear the sirens in my head. This was _it._

 _\- FUCK. HELL FUCKING NO -_

"Bastards," with little strength Ieft I got up and reached on to the spiked baseball bat that I reckon was used on me - _Fuck I wished I knew better than this_ \- but now is not the time to regret and think of such things, Mimi is in danger. The three men see me coming at them, and I keep swinging the bat frantically and hastily enough with all the energy I have left, making sure they don't get the chance to get close to me and seize me.

One of them pulls a revolver, fires it incessantly until -

 ** _"AGH!"_** In an instant I fell down to the ground, holding the spot on my limb as if amputated. All the more convinced that I'm not dreaming at all.. and with that in mind, I'm realizing I still failing to save Mimi from her violent fate.

"Yamato-san," I keep hearing Mimi calling out my name, just my name, saying nothing more, no begging for help, just my name, as if she understood. The gunned man steps forward, a wretched smile as he points the gun at me, targeting my temple.

"Please, don't do anything to him!" Mimi cries out, begging that they spare my life... _Oh Mimi.._ there's no mercy with these men.

"Yamato-san.." I look at her and she's apologetic as if it was all her fault. I should be the sorry one, Mimi.

 _God.._ I wish I knew better than this.

"Ishida Yamato.. you have such a nice name," the man chuckles, then reveals a tattooed hand and points to the kanji.

"Did you know, Yamato-san?" The man loads the gun, the barrel seemingly in a now accurate position. "The god of death always favors those who were named after him."

Am I really going to die? Or am I just in a nightmare? Is this how it should have been?

"Mimi.."

I hear her cry my name once more. I've lost her again.

 _Fire._

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I was sure, that by the moment I heard the pull of the trigger, it was over. I would be held indirectly accountable for Mimi's death, and with my own death as consolation. But as I open my eyes, I find myself elsewhere.

My old room. It was early morning.

Frantically I look at my hands, searching for traces of blood on me. No shot on the limb either, although still painful. Then I notice that I was dressed differently - white shirt, blue boxers -I feel different, too..

I stood up from the bed, noticing subtle changes - I feel lighter, skinnier, smaller. My desk piled with papers and notebooks. Alerted, I hurry to the mirror - if my intuiting is correct, I'm -

 _And for the nth time I ask myself - am I dreaming?_

Ishida Yamato. High school. Nine years ago. My body from 17, with the consciousness of 26. Minor changes from then and now.

I jump from my reflection as I heard knocking on my door.

"Aniki..?" It creaks open and reveals Takeru in his middle school uniform, green and khaki. His innocent smile evolves into a frown as he locks his eyes on me.

"Is everything okay?" he asks curiously. I blink a few times, the same disbelief when I wounded back to the day Mimi died paints my face. Takeru, obviously not pleased.

"Takeru," I swallow the lump on my throat. "what's the original name of the _Enma_? _"_

His frown only deepens, puzzled by my question. Takeru answers anyway. "You meant Yama."

 _Yama._ "I see."

"Isn't it too early to be talking about shinigami and the underworld?" Takeru scratches his head, as if waiting for any more response from me. "Well.. I'm going ahead, aniki. Can you tell otou-san I said bye?"

"Yeah." I reply, no glance spared.

He pulls back the door, only to push it open once more. "Aniki,"

"Hmm?" I look at him as if he knows a secret.

"Are you okay?"

 _Mimi and I died,_ I tell myself, once again trying to grasp this reality I am in. "Yeah."

The gods are playing with me.

\- # -

The _Keishicho_ is the Japanese police. Yama is the real name of Enma, the King of the Underworld both in East Asian mythos (Japan, China, Korea).

MimixIshidax - I'm glad you like it so far! I'm didn't specify the fic under genres of mystery/thriller/fantasy as it's not the real concentration of the fic, but I will try to explain some things in subtlety (basically, Yamato's being given a chance to cheat with time and death - the statue guardian from chapter 1, the kanji earlier). I hope I did not disappoint in this chapter! xoxo

Just for everyone to know.. the premise here is simple - it's Yamato forming the friendship/relationship (I'm still undecided if I'll take it to a romance route) he never had with Mimi. :)


	3. Chapter 3

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Kintsugi

(金継ぎ)

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(n.) lit. "to repair with gold"; the art of fixing broken pottery with gold or silver lacquer

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Everything looks exactly like my senior year. The blinds, the bed sheets, the paperwork, the lyrics laid out on my desk.. Seeing my room like this makes me feel slightly wistful. I search for my phone around me, and having it not with me, eventually I assume that I've lost it during this whole.. thing.

I should at least have a spare, the one I used to have. I look around for areas that the 17-year-old me would potentially hide the phone.

Guitar case. It was there all right, blue, plastic, battered, vintage.. _flip phone,_ I notice, comparing it to the recent one that I've now lost. If my timeline is correct, then I'd still be -

 _Ahh._

I find my thumb tracing the screen of my phone, as if a long-gone relic rediscovered. There displayed a photo of me and Sora.

I can no longer remember which park this photo was taken, but I know for certain that the time we did take this image was one of the rare, peaceful, drama-free dates we had. Seventeen-year-old Sora looks so different from the Sora I know now, her hair and features more feminine.. softer than the powerful look she always sported in our youth. The red in her eyes here are fiery ruby. In our 20's, they've subdued to rosy.

The nostalgia is interrupted as the phone suddenly rings - _seventeen-year-old-me, why the hell did you opt the siren one?_ \- it was the alarm.

I look around again and breathe deeply, trying to digest everything. Ishida Yamato, 26, back in the body of my former 17. I look in the mirror once more, confirming this reality while pinching both cheeks.

 _You're alive, Yamato._

"What the hell.." I sigh. This is a lot to take in, already happening for the second time now. Mimi..

I look at my phone again, checking my contacts and messages with Koushiro and Sora, finding any recent trace of the girl being alive, that perhaps Koushiro or Sora slipped her name whenever. As expected too, Mimi and I still haven't shared a conversation in this reality, or memory. Whichever, I'm not sure, but the thought is somewhat embittering..

 _It's just Mimi, Yamato._ I reprimand myself. Damn it. I'm going to message her myself.

 _\- Tachikawa? -_

And in an instant, I regretted sending that message. _Yamato, Mimi died twice and you're still.._ Mute. A few minutes pass by and she still hasn't replied. It's probably nighttime in America.. although she did study back here in Japan for a while.

 _..I'm in high school. She just has to be alive, right?_

The worry consumes me again, revisiting the scenes from the funeral and the night of the murder. As I scroll down with the keypad - _mobile phone technology really improved on this part, I daresay -_ \- I'm beginning to believe this isn't just some dream after all, that perhaps I really am back in time. How'd that happen, I don't know, I don't think I would know anyway, this is some shit one would only really get in sci-fi or fantasy fiction.

My search ends as the phone rings again. The second alarm was for letting me know if I'll be late.

"Shit." Realizing I'm still in my boxers, I scavenge around the room for my uniform. It didn't take too long to know it's not here.. ugh.. where on earth do I usually hang that thing?

I eventually find them in the bathroom, got dressed and swept a hand through my hair. _'You look like shit',_ was what the mirror was probably telling me.

Otou-san seemed to have left way earlier, so I head out and rush to the train station for Tsukishima.

The platform is cramped, Tsukishima students and salarymen crowd the train like canned tuna. It's insane how railway policies are so forgiving for such inconveniences. _This is why I dropped out of Todai,_ realizing I'm better off living off of my music than chasing stars, or crunching the numbers, going to work and home back and forth as if some robotic salaryman...

Speaking of which, the one beside me here is sleeping while standing, mouth open, nose pointing skywards... Amazing. Way to go, evil work culture.

 _Kami.._ I'd hate to become one.. if it hadn't been for that deal -

A man slightly bumps me with his suitcase, and he apologizes with a bow, but I just look at him, as if paralyzed with what I've just recalled. The deal. I know I've connected the dots much earlier. Knife of Day terminated the contract as soon as it was confirmed that the label was behind Tachikawa Mimi's murder.

"Damn," I mutter under my breath. In the present day, the trial is still in progress. Taichi and Ichijouji Ken have been helping the Tachikawas with the investigation, along with the best prosecutor in Tokyo. The suspects happened to be very well-protected by the system, Taichi once told me. _Why Mimi,_ out of all the women in Tokyo, was the person of their interest, no one knows as of yet. Frankly, I tried to avoid hearing anything about it.

 _I could have been there for her._

A few minutes I leave the subway, walking along the daily rush, on the way I try to recall all the important details that the 17-year-old me would deem important - the location of my shoe locker, the classroom, the nearest restroom, the exact seat during first term - the teachers. .. _ugh, how am I supposed to remember all those things?_ That was almost a decade ago!

 _Focus, Ishida!_

And by lunchtime, I'll have to meet up with the others and ask about Mimi.

 _oh wait -_

Why haven't I noticed it before? the weather's cloudy snug, though the scent of sakura extremely strong. Light rain later, I think to myself. I look at my phone to check the date: 15th of March. Hanami season.

 _Ishida, you idiot, you should have noticed it earlier!_ If my estimate is correct, it's by this time Mimi comes back from New York to study here. The chance of her already in school is high.

This re-realized tidbit somehow comforts my anxiety. As I reach school I immediately head over to the map posted on the billboard, confirming my memory of the second years' floor location. _First._ Just a quick peek throughout the doors, find the girl with rose-golden hair and I'll be having a breather from this surreal ordeal I'm in.

It's unnerving to walk through these halls, perhaps seven or eight years have passed me by. Everyone looks so young, including me, but it doesn't leave my mind that I'm already 26. The hallway is slightly busy, students coming and going in and out, making preparations for the first period, and like before, the girls look at me with wonder and amusement:

 _"Keiko, look! It's Ishida-san!"_

 _"What could senpai be doing here?"_

 _"He rarely goes here.."_

 _"Ahh.. Takenouchi-san is so lucky.."_

I bite my lip, trying not to laugh and mind them as I continue to look for Mimi. For that short while, I forget that I'm 26.

"Yamato-san?"

A familiar voice calls me from my left. It was Koushiro.

The first thing I notice about 16-year-old Koushiro is he never seems to age. Baby-faced, and the haircut has been the same compared to his 25-year-old self. _Does Koushiro ever change?_ I ask myself, noticing he was still holding a laptop with him.

 _Doesn't seem so._

"Good morning," I greet him, noticing he just arrived in school as he was also carrying his school bag and his case.

"Good morning too," he replies with a small smile, walking inside the room next to me. This has to be Mimi's class. I follow him inside. The murmurs and gossips grow louder.

"Do you need anything, Yamato-san?" he asks, sitting on his table, which was at the center front.

"Yeah, I was just wondering where Mimi is," I say, watching him settle his things. "I thought she'd be here,"

I probably have said something wrong or disturbing a Koushiro looks up at me, perplexed. _Shit, what now?_

He bursts into a light chuckle.

"Mimi's in New York, Yamato-san," he replies. "has been since elementary school, remember?"

 _Mimi is not here?_ My mind begins to do mental gymnastics, and Koushiro's look of concern grows.

Dumbfounded, I ask, "Are you sure?"

I think I just rewrote history. That was the stupidest question I probably asked him.

"I'm pretty sure, Yamato-san.."Koushiro steps back and scratches his head, confused. "Is everything okay though? You and Mimi?"

 _Me and Mimi?_ The implication of having something 'okay' or 'not okay' with Mimi somehow bothers me, perhaps it's the glaringly obvious fact that there was no meaningful relationship to exist or to have existed between us, to have something 'okay' or 'not okay'. Koushiro, her long-time admirer, is obviously bothered by my sudden mention of Tachikawa.

Perhaps there was that, too, why I stayed away from Mimi. Taichi was already a huge flirt, despite being unconscious of this. We stare at each other in awkward silence, having these unspoken truths realized.

"Koushiro-kun?" Speak of the devil. The voice was incredibly familiar, I've heard of it just moments ago. The voice came from the other door. Mimi, in her rose-gold hair and uniform, stands at the corridor with a beam on her face, a hand waving. I am just as dumbfounded as I see her standing there, but my relief of her being alive is more important, and I couldn't help but smile to myself. Koushiro, however, was not.

Mimi skips towards us, and she takes notice of me being there. I guess _it is_ weird that senior like me was hanging around a kouhai classroom. She smiles. Sixteen-year-old Mimi looks just the same as she was in her 25, save for her baby-soft face, which eventually developed with modelesque features. "Yamato-san?"

"Tachikawa," It was the only thing I could tell her, and I could tell she was slightly disappointed with my response as she hides her annoyance by smiling at Koushiro instead, playfully punching him by the arm. _Sorry, Mimi._ With so much of what I know about her fate, it was difficult to make conversation without having to slip.

"A-aren't you supposed to be in New York, Mimi-san?!" Koushiro exclaims in disbelief. "when did you get here?!"

Crap. Mimi didn't like that reaction from the boy either. Koushiro was probably more concerned how I happened to know Mimi is back in Japan, without him knowing it first.

"You don't seem happy to see me _either_ ," she laughs dryly, the last word emphasized was directed at me. Sixteen-year-old Mimi, I remember, is cheekier. She flips her hair in nonchalance, adjusts her bag, then scowls at both of us. _Ahh._ I remember this Mimi, all right. The nonconformist-diva _bijin._ "Well, I'll be seeing you again later. I need to drop by the principal anyway."

She casually waves bye and exits the classroom, leaving Koushiro and I in another gust of silence, as if a ghost just passed by. So today is the day Mimi returns to Japan. I can't help but wonder if this was just mere coincidence, but nonetheless, I'm finally relieved that she remains alive in her teenage years as well.

"I didn't know she was going to return today," Koushiro spoke out of the blue, biting a finger. "how did you know, Yamato-san?"

 _Fuck_. I obviously didn't think this through. I obviously can't tell Koushiro that I'm actually from the future, and that Mimi died in her 25, and all that shit. God. What the hell did I just get into?

"I.." _Ishida, you're absolutely not good at this._ "I had a hunch."

Lame, lame, lame. _That was the worst way to put it, ever, Yamato_. Koushiro is not convinced, and he is curiouser than ever now as to how I, Ishida Yamato, knew something about Mimi. If anything, he's probably thinking Mimi and I have formed a bond 'behind the scenes'. It's no secret she and I weren't as close as everyone is with her. But in true Izumi fashion, he pries no further. "I see."

The bell rings as if on cue, saving both of us from another awkward silence. Koushiro and I part in the classroom, he tells me he'll see me later at lunch.

There was only one thing in my mind as I exited their classroom - Mimi is here now. I can breathe, once again. There's absolutely nothing in our teens to harm her. I take a peek inside the faculty room's window just to glimpse at her, just to confirm again to myself that she really is here. I can't be blamed, I have had her die on me twice already.

"Yamato? What are you doing?"

Another voice, and I very much know whose voice this was. My heart soars as I encounter 17-year-old Takenouchi Sora. She just came to school, with Taichi next to her. As I see both of them, I couldn't help but feel my eyes sting. _Ahh, why now?_

"Oi Yamato, are you okay?" Taichi asks as he scratches his head, waving a hand in front of me.

I couldn't help but gape, honestly still entranced how surreal this is.. _To relive all of this.._ High school were the best days the three of us had together. _And Sora.._

The bell rings again, and it alarms all three of us.

"I'm gonna go ahead, catch you guys later?" Taichi says, skipping his way upstairs as Sora bids him. It's only me and Sora now. Ruby-eyed Sora, tanned skin, fit figure from all that athletic effort, blazing ginger hair. I always loved how fiery she looked. Often conflicted with my ice.

Sora smiles and takes my hand, leading me to move up to class. It's eerie how I'm holding hands with her now. To feel all of this again with her is terrifying, having broken up with her five years ago. Our break-up wasn't because of one huge fight - it was because there were so many petty ones. I guess.. that's just how it went. Realizing it now did make me regret it a bit. I could have done more.. _then again._. Sora could have done more, too.

Takes two to tango, right?

"Let's get going, Yamato,"

 _So how am I going to deal with you?_

"Wait,"

"What is it?"

I was about to tell her that Mimi came back from America, but as the faculty door opens, I see no reason to bear the news anymore.

"Sora-san?!"

"Mimi?!"

The two joined their hands together, their excitement and surprise collected into fits of giggling and repressed chatter. I couldn't help but smile at the scene. Sora has always smiled more with Mimi; a side of her in which I wished I saw more when she was with me. Mimi doesn't seem to mind me being there again, but she glances and smiles at me, and once again, I could only look away.

"Tachikawa-san, we need to get you to your classroom," Mimi's homeroom teacher Nishino-san interrupts their reunion. "Takenouchi-san, Ishida-san, don't you have classes to go to?"

"S-sorry!" Sora bows her head to Nishino-san, and she grabs me by the arm, motioning me to follow her lead upstairs. "Mimi, I'll see you later!"

Mimi waves back, still with that well-rehearsed smile since this morning. "Later!"

She disappears from our sight, as Sora and I go up. We part on the second floor for different classes. I entered mine, luckily I still made it through the roll-call.

The rest of the morning I found myself dazing. Classes are all right, I could still remember some of the lessons, but my mind is elsewhere. I could only think of what happened from the funeral, to the night of Mimi's murder, and today. I never gave enough thought to what was happening until now, where everything seems to be in place, except for me. I'm not truly seventeen, this thought sinks in for real. I'm 26 years old.

Lunchtime comes and everyone joins in our 'spot' on the school patio; a blanket unfolded under the cherry blossom tree. Things go almost exactly the way it used to, the time Mimi did come back from America. She was the spotlight of that lunch, all right. And I.. I was just 'there', like before. It's during these moments I often think how much everyone seems to be taken by her. Everyone loves Mimi. It's no question. It's not an opinion. It's just a fact of life I've lived with. Now thinking about it, I've messaged Mimi earlier. No response from her. I guess she already left her American network. That or she could be avoiding me, too. I focus on my nikuman instead.

I wouldn't really blame her if she did that.

"Ah, ah, ah, Taichi-san!" Mimi slaps his hand away from her bento, the idiot liked to do that a lot - stealing portions of food from everyone when he's done with his. What happens next is something that I am 99% certain that didn't happen at all. It may have been a good nine-to-ten years - _but I swear to kami_ -

"Are you sure?" Taichi chuckles, a blush forms on his face as he stares down at the pair of chopsticks held out in front of him. Everyone seems to be taken aback at this unconscious flirtation. Taichi and Mimi always did that - set people off on edge with their coquettish ignorance, but Mimi did it with everyone else, too. I often assumed this intimacy was just something Mimi brought with her after getting acquainted with American culture.

"It's not a big deal," Mimi scoffs him and everyone else. Poor Koushiro obviously unsettled by this, but he masks his discomfort very well. Taichi, the ever glutton, takes the bite off of her sashimi and thanks her in the end. Mimi smiles at him, and she now does the same gesture to Koushiro. Sora laughs nervously.

Lunchtime ends, and we go back to classes. I leave that patio with discontent. Having to watch that new moment spur from an old memory, I could truly admit now that I envy everyone that they can have this kind of relationship with her.

Classes go on, and my head is still elsewhere. It doesn't seem to matter, I'm truly 26 anyway. As if on cue my Physics class introduces concepts of space and time. My classmates liked stuff like this - the theoretical science and the fantasy of time-travel.

I could only smirk. Now isn't that just how it goes in anime and manga?

As the lesson goes on my mind rewinds Mimi's funeral and her death. Still no clue how I got here, but that part seems to matter less and less as I go through this day. Maybe I am here again for a reason, and that reason is very much related to Tachikawa Mimi.. regardless if this was by some divine fate, or a coincidental wrinkle in the fabric of time.

And so, the thoughts weigh me out again. Now that I'm here, way back into the past, maybe I can change things.. Get to know Mimi. Become friends with Mimi. _Save Mimi.._

Ahh.. The thought scares me still. Maybe I'm afraid of being part of her life. Or rather, I'm afraid of her being part of mine.

 _Damn it, Yamato. You're 26 now._

Three hours passed, and the school bell rings to signal after-school. When it did, my mind has gone blank. Outside from the window it's pink-and-grey; the sky has the omen of rain, and the sakura in bloom. I immediately go my way downstairs as I hear Taichi and Sora ask me from behind where I was going, but there were more important matters.

The restroom was empty. I unbutton my collar to breathe, splash cool water on my face then look at my reflection once more. Ishida Yamato, 26, in the body of 17. Eyes just as blue as they always were. From today onwards, things will change.

I exit the restroom and look around the hallway, the second-years' floor surprisingly almost empty. I head my way to the other side, lean on the wall adjacent to a door.

In front of the faculty room, I wait for Mimi.

 _\- # -_

So I'm a bit bummed I didn't get to release this sooner, but I did get enough time to coming to terms how this whole story will go, some points I'll stick with. But there still are some details/parts in which I'll have to rely on 'winging' it.

PinkAngelMimi - Ahh, thank you dearie, this is really the first time I've written something unusual. It's nice, refreshing.

Scripturiens - love, I owe you just as much, and no worries. I feel so much about the struggle, but I'd like you to know that despite my absence in the fandom, I've always been inspired by you and your writing. Still does today. ;) (Ahh, swear I'll leave my own sentiments soon - space mermaids, if you know what I mean lmao).

Pied Piper - thanks for such comprehensive, lovely reviews, they're much appreciated! I have taken in consideration with the details I've just dropped. I hope not I honestly don't have much to say in regards to the plot, but what I can assure is this isn't really a 'who-dun-it' thriller or a timey-wimey savvy sci-fi.

Yas - thank you so much! I hope you can stick around for a while, as I am determined to finish this soon. I'm going to try. I have to say I've been enjoying writing this story a lot!

Next update will probably come during the holidays being the earliest. Thanks again, guys!


	4. Chapter 4

Kintsugi

(金継ぎ)

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(n.) lit. "to repair with gold"; the art of fixing broken pottery with gold or silver lacquer

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 _I should have thought all of this through._

Sixteen-year-old Tachikawa Mimi stares at me in horror, lips parted, honey eyes wide - the same expression she wore during that fated afternoon. Of course she's shocked, Yamato, I remind myself so as not to snap at the dumb look on her face. I am the last person she probably expected to be her company. If anything, this is the first time I'm actually - consciously - making a memory with Tachikawa. It was always her bidding the first greetings in mornings, the starter of small talks between us, the initiator of thoughtless banter. My very observant and nosy brother has pointed out this very one-sided dynamic between me and the girl. Always Mimi. Never was never me, until this. I can't help but wonder now what's going on inside her head - maybe she expected Taichi or Sora or Koushiro - _but never me_ , never Yamato _._

Never me.

 _Ahh.._ That reminder is making me sour again.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," I tell her, once again a deja vu. I am pretty sure I've heard someone say it before. Mimi and I both look away as we try to brush off our embarrassment. Should really have expected this.

She blinks and blushes. I find it rather cute, it's rare to see Mimi so flustered. From mere observation, it's always the guy who gets all bothere - _hold up, Ishida._ _What did you just..?_

"Ehh, that's not it," she retorts, folds her arms and bobs her head to the side as she pouts at me. _Cute._ "Yamato-san, were you about to go inside?"

Like an idiot I daze at the sight of her, hands sweaty and blood rushing to my face, my heartbeat.. faster. This is nothing new though. Mimi always has this effect on people she's with - even the girls. Still. it doesn't help my agenda.. _Get a grip, you're 26 years old!_

I really should have thought of this more thoroughly, I tell myself all over again as I tug my tie. Here we are, facing each other, and the school bell rings once more just to fill in the silence between us. The hallway is eerily empty already.

"Do you need something?" Mimi attempts to break the tension, but it doesn't really help.. not when I'm trying to remember what I'm supposed to do here in the first place. The sudden heat is making me tenser too, the pink glow from the outside makes the whole thing like a dream.. just like the time-traveling from earlier.

"N..no," _Yamato, you idiot._ I'm beginning to realize that "no" has always been my default answer to her.. and that's something I really should change.

Mimi raises a brow, bites her lower lip in confusion. "Uhh.. I guess I'll be on my way. See you tomorrow, Yamato-san,"

And so, Mimi walks away, and I remain standing there, watching her slow afternoon silhouette get smaller and smaller, until she disappears to the right.

Crap. _Don't think, just do, Ishida._

In hurried footsteps I chase after Mimi, catching up to her just at the entrance as she bends to put on her shoes.

"Mimi," She looks up again in surprise, and this really just confirms that I am the last person she expects. I take a few more steps near her, just far enough not to corner her. She blushes again. It's so weird, honestly - but that's not important.

"Yamato-san?" yes, Mimi, i'm as curious as you are as to what I'm about to do. From here I could already inhale the scent of sakura as I collect my breathe. _Just say it, Yamato._

"Are you doing anything today?"

The question only made the confusion in her face more evident, as if I just said the most unbelievable thing.

"Ehhhh?!" she exclaims in a dragging manner as she resorts back to wearing her shoes. "I'm not sure i'm the right company you're seeking, Yamato-san," She chuckles lightly.

 _God,_ I really was that terrible to her. The way she said it was so candid and honest that I honestly feel a bit hurt she thought that way. Again, I can't blame her for this.

"I meant, do you want to hang out?" I take another step forward, hoping the message reaches her. She steps back, completely appalled by what I just said. From here on it became a staring game. Mimi obviously trying to penetrate inside my head as she intently stares at me, with me staring back, trying to find the sincerity of my words through my eyes.

I could understand why she's doing this. Truly.

"I meant what i said, Tachikawa."

She blinks a few times, soft lashes slowly fluttering. He pink light from the sakura makes everything look surreal. Even more as her face softens up and she turns away, hands clasped behind her back as she heads to the exit.

Mimi always looked good in pink.

"What's the plan, Yamato-san?"

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Let this moment be a lesson to you, Yamato.

I really should have planned this thoroughly. Beside me Mimi walks in silence, her eyes looking everywhere but my direction. It's weird.. that I'm leading Mimi. To see this pliant, modest side of her is unnerving, and once again a painful reminder as to how estranged I am with her.

It was always her on the driver's seat, whether with me or anyone else.

"How's New York?" Almost a decade since.. and my attempt at small talk is very mediocre.

"Never the same," she answers candidly, shrugging her shoulders. "Everything almost changes in the blink of an eye. Nothing stays the same and everything moves forward and backward, like some of my favorite ice cream shops disappearing and reappearing in different corners of the city. Or like old art deco buildings being replaced by new ones.. Or my wonderful friends who come and go."

Silence again. Sixteen-year-old Mimi does have depth in her after all.

"It's fascinating, Yamato-san." She smiles.

"Mhmm. What made you come back to Tokyo?" I ask her, trying to prolong our conversation despite knowing much of her return. I remembered Sora once mentioned it to me, too, and I often found it very sad.

She wrinkles her face. "This is my home.. duh."

And another silence, our footsteps filling in between us as I take her to Naka-dori. Mimi is still obviously flushed and amazed that I walk by her. Her head darted away, preoccupying herself with the mundane sights offered by Tsukishima as she clasps on her suitcase.

 _Mimi looks good in uniform._

On our way I reckon it was best to welcome her return to Tokyo for some monjayaki, for some reason remembering her weird taste with egg batter from our childhood summer camp.

"Do you like spicy food?" I ask her as we walk along Monjya Street.

"Do _you_ like spicy food, Yamato-san?"

I grunt in annoyance since I asked first, but being the adult that I am, _at least cognitively,_ I let it go. "Yeah."

"Do you plan to pay for my food, Yamato-san?"

... _cheeky girl._ Of course Tachikawa never pays. "Yeah, sure."

Her grin widens with delight, as if rediscovering her newfound confidence. I, Ishida Yamato, had officially become one of her male pawns for her to leech off. No, she isn't the Succubus — she's just a girl who still believes she's a princess.

"Then we should eat that."

We opted for an indoor-type of joint, one where we could sit down and talk. It's perfect. I wouldn't have to worry about Sora, Taichi, the others or my classmates knowing about this date.

Wait a minute. Did I just assume this was a date? I gulp the lump in my throat, reassessing the criteria of how this one outing with Mimi classifies as a 'date'. First, this isn't some classy restaurant. Far from it even. Also we're sitting at the counter. The atmosphere isn't that much of a mood maker either.. of course it's not a date, Yamato.. _and you're dating Sora during this time of your life, for kami's sake!_

"Yo oni-san!" Saved by the cook. My panicking washes off as I look up and glance on my left. Mimi was still skimming through the menu.

"What are you ordering?" The cook over the counter asked as he was frying egg batter.

"Spicy mentai," I answer curtly, anticipating for Mimi to break the ice between us.

"And your girlfriend's?"

" _Ehh?"_ I honestly feel ashamed for being so flustered at the thought.. ugh. "Ya oji-san, no, she's not my—"

"I'll be having mochi cheese mentaiko, ji-san!"

"Nice choice, neesan!"

Dumbly I look away from her, part of me regretting of having to do thi —no, I don't regret it, I can't. Mimi needs to trust me. I need to be her friend. Then I can save her, I keep telling myself. Get your head out of your ass, Ishida.

"I thought you wanted something spicy?" I ask her, another attempt of small talk. She looks pretty happy and excited.

"Ehh, it won't be fun if we both order the same thing," she says it as if it's the wisest advice in the world. She leans forward the counter to look into me, and instinctively, I pull myself back, finding her.. very.. very intrusive.

Tachikawa still stares, the awkwardness between us being filled by the frying pan and the chatter of customers. Kami.. I wonder how Koushiro gets to put up with this.

"This is the first time you and I are alone together, Yamato-san," she speaks suddenly, cheek on her palm as a smile between mirth and tease forms across her lips.

"Well I figured it's about time," I answer coolly — or attemptingly 'cool' as I hold my glass of water.

"Felt bad when you didn't get to befriend dear Mimi-chan when you had the chance, eh?" Her grin widens, making her look like the Maneki-neko as she takes delight in this torturous conversation. Ah, it's time to confront the truth, Ishida.

"Yeah, I do," I tell her, smirking. "Though I reckoned when it came to us, I'll be the last person you'll consider talking to."

 _Huh.._ that was smoothly honest of me. Mimi was just as surprised herself, mouth parted.

"Well, you were very difficult to approach to, Yamato-san," she says this in a very defensive manner, and it surprises me. For a while I couldn't retort anything to her as our food were served. Mimi breaks up her chopsticks and begins to eat her cheese monjya without a care in the world.

 _So it's still my fault?_

Begrudgingly I eat my meal in silence, the spicy taste of my own flaming only my annoyance towards the girl beside me. How was I difficult to approach to?

Okay, granted I was generally a very disagreeable person in my youth, even people like Taichi can put up with me. Takeru has no — _wait, no, terrible comparison, he's your brother for kami's sake_ — heck even Miyako can withstand me!

 _Ugh,_ no, don't let this get you, Yamato. You're here to save her, remember?

I focused on my meal instead of fusing off, the wise decision I've yet done. After several bites, just until I reach half of my meal, I face her.

"I don't hate you, you know," I tell her.

Mimi look up at me as she chews, smiles and sighs. "But you don't like me either, right?"

Like? To say that I do would be premature and insincere..

"To be honest, I don't know how I feel about you." Fuck, that came out wrong. She looks just as shocked, chokes her food that I end up patting her back and aid her with water.

Why the heck did I just say that? _Ugggh.. what the hell Ishida.._

"So here you are, hanging out with me and bribing me with food," she chuckles, readying her utensils again to chow down the remains of her meal. "You must really feel bad for me to take me out here,"

"It's not like that.."

"You feel bad that you never gave me a chance to be friends with you when we were young.. now that I'm back here again, you thought of making amends of what you didn't do then.." she tells me this with such a weird expression on her face, as if it was such a bad thing. "that's what you feel, Yamato-san."

I don't deny any of it, they're all true. For a while I just stare at her, completely forgetting my own monjya. Mimi died in my real timeline. Not only I couldn't save her when I had the chance; I didn't have that many memories with her, too. I want to tell her that I want to be here for her this time, to have my own relationship with her, to be her friend. These were all the things I've been thinking since she died, and this was my chance.. _my chance.._

Mustering all my courage, I was about to say all of this, when she spoke first.

"I bet Sora-san was behind this too," she says. "You taking me out after school on the day I come back here,"

"No, she's not," I reply, suddenly being reminded again that I have also revisited my past relationship with _her_. Sora. What do I do with Sora? She wanted this anyway, right? "This was my idea. She doesn't know I'm here with you."

But Mimi scoffs it off with a chuckle, still ever focused with her meal. "That's comforting, I guess. Choosing dear Mimi for once, eh?"

We carry on as we both resume eating our monjya, the rest of the time spent in the restaurant trying to finish the rest of the batter.

"Do you want to taste some of mine, Yamato-san?" Mimi points at her leftover batter, offering some of it.

I slowly nod and reach out to get some of the cheesy monjya.

"Do you want some of mine, too?" I ask her.

She smiles and I instantly cut some of my own portion for her.

"I feel lucky," she says, giggling to herself. "how many girls in the school can actually say, 'ahh, I just shared a meal with the band leader of Knife of Day'?"

I laugh alongside her, appreciating her thoughtfulness. "And he gets to treat you, too," I added.

"Ahh, lucky girl I am," she jests. "But Sora is the luckiest."

I only smile and say no more, relishing once again that this overdue friendship has finally made progress.

 _No, Mimi._ I'm the lucky one.


End file.
